Icha Icha Paradise
by Sauvignon
Summary: [oneshot] slash. who says secrets don't make friends? [ichiishi]


**hi guys. this is oldish and smuttish. i hope it doesn't get bounced. cross your fingers! **

icha icha paradise is a naruto thing. fyi.

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**Icha Icha Paradise**

_Who Says Secrets Don't Make Friends?_

By: Sauv

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Ichigo had been sleeping over at Ishida's apartment for over a week before he noticed it. "It" being constantly moved from between the dictionary and the annual sewing monthly to under the old springy mattress to in Ishida's beside drawer. Small and orange, it was, with a small circle with a cross through it on the back. 

Ichigo had –when curiosity had finally gotten the better of him, snatched the book (in the bedside drawer right behind Ishida's favorite banana flavored condoms) –been expecting an advanced way to knit a scarf or something equally ridiculously Ishida like. That, regardless to say, was _not_ what he got.

_He kissed down her stomach, his warm tongue dipping down into her bellybutton and swirling it around. Her hips bucked off the silken sheets and she let out a sensuous moan. He hooked her string bikini with two pinky fingers and pulled down, hungrily watching the flimsy lace material falling away from hot tight silken thighs. _

Ichigo choked on his own tongue. That little bastard! Ishida got flustered when Ichigo read the American magazine "Playboy" and Ishida was reading smutty novels? Ichigo skimmed down a few paragraphs to where little colored in hearts (maybe from one of Ishida's sewing markers) outlined the passage. His eyes narrowed. Now _that_ was interesting.

_She wrapped her hot tongue around his stiff member and slid it down an inch. He groaned, his hands threading in her hair. The musky smell lingered around them and their eyes connected. She took him into her mouth. He slid into her fitting perfectly into the back of her throat as if he were made for her. He let out a cry as she, as hard as she could manage, sucked. He came, splurging down her throat-- _

_Fuck_, that dirty little fag! Ichigo twitched as the memories of last night shimmered in his mind. No wonder the passage seemed familiar, that little fuck was using this book like a guide! And he had thought his boyfriend was just clever.

_Hah_!

A door slammed, signaling his boyfriend's return from the fabric store (he didn't let Ichigo go anymore because he got too horny and never got the right color). Ichigo threw the book back behind the banana condoms, a nasty idea forming in his head.

He pushed the light yellow sheets off his warm body and scratched his bare chest. He glanced at the clock, eleven in the morning. Bringing his hand to his mouth and blowing, he winced at his breath. Light poured in from the window, bathing his nearly naked body in warmth.

Turning on the shower tap and dropping his orange boxers (Ishida had stitched Ichigo's Death God symbol on them in black for him because he was, essentially, a dork but Ichigo loved him regardless) on the white tiled floor and grabbing his loaded toothbrush he stepped into the shower.

He scrubbed at his teeth enjoying the fresh mintyness of his toothpaste. Letting out a breath of freshness, he rinsed out of his mouth and put his toothpaste on the little white shelf (where a lonely bar of soap sat) and snagged the top of the shampoo between his big toe and the second one. He lifted his leg and grabbed it with a hand, spurting some of Ishida's citrus shit into his big calloused hand.

He laughed through his nose at the thought of Ishida and his stupid book as he scrubbed his orange head. He spied the small waterproof radio hanging on the wall in the shower. Clicking it on a random station, his eyes lit up at one of his favorite songs.

His body moved along to the music as he washed out the shampoo from his hair. He ignored the conditioner (his hair was too short to worry about something like that) and grabbed the soap. He body wiggled to the beat as he soaped up his body. He was soon in full body jam, water droplets flinging everywhere.

He was nice and clean and in his ending air guitar pose when the flash went off. He blinked and looked through the clear glass door to see Ishida clutching the sink, camera in hand, tears streaming down his face. His shoulder shook so hard that Ichigo was briefly worried they'd snap off. Then he realized his boyfriend was _laughing. _

Well, the worry evaporated (along with his ego).

Ishida caught the look in Ichigo's eyes and ran. Ichigo rushed out, grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist and chased after him.

Ishida clutched the camera to his chest, laughing so hard he nearly ran into a wall. He dodged around the hallway corner and found himself pinned to the arm of the couch.

Ichigo pushed Ishida's hips harder into the couch. Ishida hic-cupped and moaned at the same time causing him to laugh harder. Ichigo thought about what revenge he could do.

A light randomly went on in the kitchen. Ichigo grinned and Ishida pushed way to go investigate, camera still in hand.

"That's really weird," he said pushing his glasses up his red blotchy nose and peering up into the light. Ichigo barely heard him. He knew just how to get Ishida back. He lingered into the bedroom to get dressed.

Ishida, in the background, flicked the light switch on and off in confusion. Then finally giving up, strolled off into the bedroom with his prize (his hard on had disappeared in his confusion).

---

Ishida, the next day –after his brand new material had disappeared—went back to the fabric store. Ichigo sat on the couch reading a magazine, silently smirked, waiting for the door to close. Ishida waved and Ichigo nodded, the door shut.

Ichigo balled up the material in his back pocket as he walked to the bedroom and threw it in the garbage.

Sucker.

He plopped onto the queen-sized bed and fished around in Ishida's drawer. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for. He opened the small orange book and started to read.

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He strolled into the small kitchen and peeked into the fridge, making sure they had chocolate sauce. He grabbed a pen from the counter drawer and checked off something in the book. He checked the cupboard, counting things off, checking more things off on the book.

He smirked and made a quick run to his house for the rest.

---

Half and hour later, the bedside drawer had barely closed when the door opened. Ishida had two grocery bags and a fabric bag. Ichigo took the grocery bags from him and gave him a completely innocent kiss on the lips.

Little did Ishida know that that was the last innocent _anything_ he was going to get that night.

Ishida dropped his fabric bag off in the other room with his sewing stuff and went to the kitchen to help with the groceries.

"I'm hungry." He said when he saw Ichigo put something in the fridge. His eyes lingered on that nice jean clad ass. He briefly wondered what was in his back pocket and held back a sigh. He regained his posture and pushed his glasses up.

"You aren't doing it right," he huffed pushing Ichigo out of the way, "the butter goes here—mmfff."

The fridge was shut and Ishida found himself handcuffed to the handles, sitting on his ass. His hands dangled above him. Taking a moment to realize that Ichigo had been taking things _out_ of the fridge, Ishida shifted.

Ishida's pants were pulled off and his shirt was unbuttoned before he knew it.

"Hey, the milk'll get col--" He was cut off by Ichigo's mouth. The Death God nibbled the Quincy's bottom lip, his tongue diving into his mouth to slide against his tongue. Ishida hummed.

He yelped when something cold on his stomach. He blinked to see chocolate sauce oozing from his belly button dribbling downward.

Where'd his underwear go?

"_She dipped her tongue into his chocolate covered navel…" _Ichigo was reading from a small book he had pulled from his back pocket.

Ishida's face went bright red when he realized what it was. The chocolate sauce trickled down in-between his hips and mixed with his dark pubic hair. He shifted from the coldness but kept quiet, embarrassment burning his face.

"Hmmm," Ichigo got to his knees and did just as he had read. Ishida bucked his hips as Ichigo's long pink tongue darted out to clean his belly button. Ichigo followed the trail all the way, kissing and sucking and biting until he got to the nest of soft dark hair. Ishida was painfully hard. Ichigo's breath ghosted over his member before leaving him completely. Ishida made a small whiny noise in protest.

"_She wrapped her tongue around his member, mixing the chocolate sauce around his rock" _pause _"hard" _heated glance "_cock." _And he went down on the Quincy's erection.

"_and then_," Ichigo said around Ishida's penis cause him to buck from the vibrations.

"then?" Ishida gasped, his hands clutching air.

"_sucked."_

Ishida screamed so loud and came so hard the next-door neighbor lit a cigarette.

---

Ishida lay curled up next to Ichigo go as the stars twinkled outside. He flipped the Polaroid over in his fingers and handed it to his orange haired lover. Ichigo tucked it into the book he had been reading.

They had done so many things from that book (involving food Ishida didn't even know could be sexy) that the neighbors had shown up (loaded with cigars) to ask them to keep it to a dull roar.

"Icha Icha Paradise, huh?" He asked putting the book on his bedside table and rolling over on top of the dark haired boy. Ishida blushed but grinned against familiar lips.

The light orange book sat comfortably on the bedside table from then on, used and abused. What? It had great guidelines.

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**bahahahhaahhaa. thanks for reading!**

**and, because i get asked a lot of live journal, the light in the kitchen was just something that cracks me up.**

**no, ichigo isn't magical. and no, he didn't make the light switch go on with his intense brain powers. **


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